


The Last Night

by RedxLipstick



Category: Warcraft (2016), Warcraft - All Media Types, World of Warcraft
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood and Injury, Blow Jobs, Come Eating, Communication Failure, Cussing, Dark Magic, Demonic Possession, Demons, Drunk Sex, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fel Magic, Fluff, Ghosts, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Injury, Insanity, Internalized Homophobia, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Mental Breakdown, Mental Instability, Night Terrors, Nightmares, Oral Sex, Profanity, Rough Sex, Scars, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Harm, Sexual Tension, Song Lyrics, War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-29
Updated: 2016-06-29
Packaged: 2018-07-18 23:14:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7334548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedxLipstick/pseuds/RedxLipstick
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anduin finds Khadgar inside Karazhan, injured and half-crazed, and rescues the mage while also rescuing himself in the process; that was the last night Khadgar would spend alone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Last Night

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone! Thank you all for reading! This is un-beta'd so I apologize for any grammatical/spelling errors. 
> 
> I don't own Warcraft or any of these characters but I do have fun writing about them!
> 
> Song for The Last Night: 
> 
> The Last Night by Skillet

From Light comes Darkness, and from Darkness comes…comes...nothing. Just more Darkness. He will never escape the Darkness. It was suffocating him, muffling his gaping mouth-gasping like a fish dredged from the water, and dragging gossamer over his sight.

Khadgar clutched his bony hands tighter to his emaciated legs, swimming in his robes, and rocked harder into the musty corner he was currently crammed into as closely as possible. The young mage whimpered as his knuckles whitened and cracked with the pressure he was exerting to keep his body together while his mind was flying apart, his nervous teeth gnawing right through his lower lip, bruising and drawing blood that dripped down his chin-drip, drip, drip.

He was losing it. No-he had lost it, long ago. Was it weeks ago he had stopped eating? Days? Probably around when he had stopped bathing, or maybe it was right around when he had lost the will to move other than rocking into the safe corner he had found-rock, rock, rock-must be safe. No sleep, no rest-must be strong…cannot let the Fel win.

Medivh was dead. Khadgar had murdered the Guardian, he had let the Fel win, and now he was a sickening parody of what Azeroth’s Guardian should be…crying like a babe in Karazhan, alone. What a fool he was.

He shouldn’t have come back to Karazhan, certainly not alone-he was weak, he couldn’t have been strong enough. But after…after Anduin, he whimpered and snuffled into the ratty shoulder of his cloak, even to think the Lion’s name and conjure his face up in memory, well, he shouldn’t have mistaken their friendship for anything more than what it was-friendship. It wouldn’t even have mattered if Lothar had actually wanted to stuff Khadgar’s slim, unappealing ass with his dick, maybe he could have fucked the mage in the dark, pretended he was a lass if he grew his hair out long enough and oiled up his hole, good and stretched, before he would let the warrior touch him.

The boy laughed and then hiccupped on a crazy sob, he was pathetic. Green shimmered in the corners of his vision and he cackled and sobbed while the nasty voices whispered to him all the evil things that lurked and hid under the cobwebs of his mind- _it’s not exactly common for a man to want another man, why would you have expected anything anyway_ -you’re not even a desirable man, you’re a stick-skinny, little boy; who could ever be attracted to you- _you’re foolish, weak, pitiful, and you make everyone sick with loathing_ -this is why the Kirin Tor demand celibacy; who could want a young mage, always pulled in different directions- _you’ll never have anything you desire, not love, not family, not even the position as Guardian, because you’re a foolish boy, playing at being a man and a mage_ -did you see how he fucked that girl so blatantly, probably hoping you’d find them and leave him alone for good.

Well, Khadgar had tried, he’d shut himself away in Karazhan with the snows of winter. He didn’t answer Lothar’s letters, Light knew why the warrior sent them, probably just with tactical orders he didn’t want to see, couldn’t see or deal with at the moment until he put the tower to rights…well that wasn’t going so well either.

The mage pushed his fragile face against the biting stone, gasping as the cold made direct contact with his papery skin-push, push, push-hide in the stone, become one with the stone, and never feel this-anything-again. His hands unclenched as the muscles twitched in rebellion against his tight grabbing and he brought his hands and wrists to his teeth-bite, bite, bite-his hands, they were dirty…he could see the feint glints of Fel green that would never fade. He scraped and gnawed on his hands and wrists to get off what water would never wash away-pick, pick, pick-he started sobbing at the pain and choked, couldn’t breathe, didn’t want to breath.

His eyes glowed blue, flaring like a new flame-get a message to His Lion-THE-Lion, not his, never his…He won’t, cannot, be the new Guardian, he’s failed himself, he’s failed everyone…his mental message winked and twinkled like starlight in his mind’s eye before the prism flashes died down, and the bloodied boy passed out-finally, he could have peace.

***

Lothar shot up in a cold sweat and surveyed his surroundings. He was alone in his quarters within Stormwind Keep…but someone, something, had woken him-like a whisper shouting in his ears-a nightmare? He shook his head and rubbed his eyes, pressing his knuckles into his tired eyelids to focus-think!

Khadgar? Khadgar! The words had sounded like they were spoken in Khadgar’s voice…but they were jumbled and while he was half-asleep, he couldn’t remember anything but- ‘Goodbye.’ The warrior shivered under the furs heaped onto his bed to keep the chill from the stone walls seeping through to his bed linens, even with the cast iron warmer full of boiling water stuffed within the straw mattress-Taria insisted on this treatment to his servants, though Anduin grumbled and huffed that he wasn’t soft and didn’t need such luxuries, for the Light’s sake, he was a warrior.

Was it just a bad dream? He hadn’t really dreamt at all since Callan-Light, but it even hurt to think the name, the warrior winced-had-gone-couldn’t even think the word, coward that he was. But it had been a blessing since he had experienced night terrors, locking up his limbs and jaw in silent screams, for years after his wife had-also, gone.

It wasn’t worth it, it was too coincidental-it had been months since he had seen the mage-not for lack of trying, and he had planned on breaking down the blasted, enchanted door to Karazhan himself the very next day if his letters had not yet brought an answer returned to him.

After the battle, after Callan, Llane, and Garona…well, it had not been a pleasant time for Anduin. Khadgar had stayed in the Keep briefly, mainly staying to the library before leaving for the Kirin Tor in Dalaran (which he only knew via word to his sister) before returning and retaking Karazhan as the Guardian Initiate. Lothar had been training the recruits, managing their remaining troops, and making plans with Taria and the other leaders of Azeroth as they could-they would need all the help they could get against this Horde.

When Lothar wasn’t fighting or fucking-sinking his cock into any tavern wench he could lay his drunken eyes on-he was drinking himself sick in his quarters, flying into a violent rage when anyone tried to approach him but Taria and Khadgar. Everyone else could drown for all he cared when he was tunneling into his grief, wrecked with sorrow and guilt.

Taria disapproved of his coping tactics and had discussed sending him away from Stormwind if she must, until he could “walk the path of the Light once more” …Anduin had sneered at her and slammed his inebriated self away in his chambers. Later on, one of the tittering whores he had paid to keep him well supplied with all the voluptuous distraction he could want actually came to his royal quarters-Light knows how she even got into the Keep-and Khadgar had timidly knocked on the door to talk with Lothar and discovered his friend gagging the girl with his cock while shameful tears ran down his scruffy face, a bottle of ale in one hand while the other fisted the whore’s hair and slammed her face into his pelvis and into his rough thrusts again and again, eyes unfocused as he stared into oblivion.

The young mage looked shocked-disturbed-and had abruptly turned tail. The next morning, he had left for Dalaran, without so much as a goodbye to Anduin. Lothar felt like a cad, a foolish, cowardly, broken man. He had tagged after Khadgar all over the Keep, finding him in the library on his breaks during the day and listening to the boy chatter at him about anything and everything while he closed his eyes in some semblance of comfort. He had followed the boy around like a lovesick pup, while pretending it was the young mage he was fucking every time he stuck his cock into a different hole.

He knew he was being disgustingly obvious, he knew he would be judged by Stormwind’s citizens if he chose a man as his next partner-only his sister knew of his sexual preferences and that was because she had found him with dozens of young rent-boys while they had lived with their parents in the village-they’d always fuck quietly in the apple orchards from dusk till dawn, and Taria would catch them while she gathered fruit for their family to sell at the market.

He had no other outlet-he couldn’t tell Llane or Medivh of his queer inklings, he’d risk losing his two closest friends. But Light-Khadgar-that young, slim mage, innocent and pure; the boy had wandered into his life and Anduin found himself loving him like a son at first, someone he wanted to protect and shelter from the darkness of this world…and then, then when he had lost everyone but Taria, Khadgar had comforted him too. And the naïve mage had let Lothar hang around and soak up attention like a suckling babe…and the warrior had fallen for him hard, he wanted the boy all to himself-to love, to cherish, to protect-and to wreck in every way so that he could reform Khadgar as his own alone-by the Light, but he was a possessive bastard.

So Anduin Lothar had destroyed the one good thing really left in his life-his friendship and the affections of the mage Khadgar in a single night. The boy had put up with his drunkenness, his temper, his teasing flirting, even his harsh jabs in irritation, but seeing him fuck a whore had just been too much and had set the mage to running. Anduin didn’t blame Khadgar, he was disgusted with himself. But every letter he had sent to Karazhan had returned unopened.

It was time. He had waited long enough. If he had to crawl up the damned stairs on his hands and knees to apologize to the mage he would, but the boy would see Anduin, he owed him that much. No more of this ‘goodbye’ nonsense he was dreaming up, clearly he was delusional, and it was officially out of hand. He would fly to Karazhan that moment.

***

The gryphon settled into the ground noisily and flapped its wings with shuffled grunts while the leather saddle groaned as Lothar slid off the side of it. Dawn had arrived, but while the sky was a fresh pink and powdery blue above Stormwind, around Karazhan it was bloody and smoke-hazed. Anduin looked uneasily at the damage wrought to the land surrounding the tower-it was charred and stunk of sulfur, even in the frigid air, where the ice froze natural scents. Green glistened just out of sight in the thick air and everything seemed to have swelled in size-the fungus, the spiders-while other natural plant life choked and died in a land of cracked red dust underneath the rusty snow.

He patted the gryphon and ordered it to stay safe on the arches and eaves of the tower while he walked to the main entrance. He should have worried when the wood splintered under his knock and cracked into the flesh of his fist irritatingly, itchy and raw in its wake. He should have fretted when the door swung open with a freezing gust of air, hearing feint, ghostly chuckles at his collar and ears. But the proud warrior marched inside the tower and started yelling his mage’s name loudly, echoing to the rafters, even if his voice had a quaver to it.

***

He had done this. This was his fault. Anduin didn’t stop to gape in horror at the destroyed boy in the corner of the winding stairwell. The warrior had seen worse damage but he still shook slightly as he lifted the thin body into his arms, locking his teeth at how light the mage was in his hold, and swallowing against a burning in his throat when he looked at the bruised and bloody patches peppering the boy’s hands, wrists, and chin. He had held his breath when feeling for a pulse at the boy’s neck, and released it in a silent sigh when he felt Khadgar’s heartbeat, feint and irregular, but present.

“This is the last night you’ll spend alone,” the warrior spoke to the still mage, voice breaking.

He turned to leave, hefting the mage over his shoulder so he could draw a weapon if needed. As he got to the threshold of the door, a ghostly flicker blurred and buzzed into shape in front of the warrior-Medivh, his friend, who he had once harbored romantic feelings for, flashed into existence, and his face cracked into a cruel smile.

“You’ve murdered him like you murdered me,” the echo of the older mage sneered at the warrior.

Anduin felt his knees lock but shook his head, grunting, he was better than this, stronger than this, and though he was sweating like a boar under his armor and he felt flushed and woozy without a drop of alcohol since the evening before, he knew somewhere inside he still was the strong warrior, lion he used to be.

He snorted and growled out, “Be gone, Phantom, I’m going to keep Khadgar with the living.”

Khadgar jerked on Lothar’s shoulder and flailed with a hoarse screech and the warrior nearly dropped the mage in shock before setting him upon his feet, only to catch and support his thin frame on his right arm as he listed and lolled terribly to the side.

Khadgar looked to the echo of Medivh but the old mage had vanished, leaving only a cloud of glittering, green haze vaguely there if you blinked just right enough to see it. He shook like a leaf in the wind and dropped into a ball on the floor.

Lothar shouted and grabbed the mage’s thin forearm, frowning as his hand wrapped entirely around the boy’s small bicep, and pulled him back up, “Let’s go before another blight comes.”

The mage shut his eyes and cowed his head and the warrior hissed in frustration before grabbing the mage to his chest quickly, but not without care, while shuffling out of the tower as quick as he could and whistling for his gryphon. The door to Karazhan snapped shut and locked behind them- “Good riddance,” Anduin mumbled feverishly.

He clambered onto the gryphon and caged the silent mage within the circle of his arms and warm chest, urging the beast on quicker and quicker through the cold, misty clouds that had gathered over the water.

***

Khadgar blinked his eyes open and everything in him shied away from the pain he had just woken up to. He hurt, everywhere. His stomach rumbled and whined sourly, his legs and arms cramped, and his hands felt like they were being picked and pulled apart by ravens. The mage whined hoarsely as his vocal chords squeezed and hissed with protest-he didn’t know he had damaged them screaming while the healers had scraped away the dead, infected flesh of his hands and jaw and bandaged over them with poultice-covered Embersilk and Mageweave bandages.

He felt something brush his stiff, aching foot and tears leaked out of the corners of his eyes when he finally managed to sit up while grunting and grinding his teeth and sore jaw in effort.

Anduin Lothar stood at the end of his bed, the Lion of Stormwind, staring at him with a tightness to his features and a stern grip on his big toe. The mage had tried using his hands to sit up and had quickly realized his mistake as his bulky bandages pressed on the mattress and sent sunspots of pain zinging into his raw flesh. So-Anduin was holding his toe. Alright.

“Lothar?” The mage whispered unsteadily, shutting his eyes when everything came screaming back to him-what had brought this pain to him-before blinking rapidly and glancing around; he was not in Karazhan, good.

The warrior squeezed the mage’s foot roughly and replied, “Yes, Spell-Chucker.”

Khadgar had done enough crying for a lifetime but ran his vocal chords ragged once more as he broke down into great, shuddering sobs, finally, mercifully, muffling his sorrowful moans into Anduin’s tunic as the warrior awkwardly pressed the mage’s face into his side, patting and tutting at the boy’s hair with his big fingers like he had done with his son when Callan had scraped his knee or lost a toy as a babe.

“That was the last night you’ll spend alone, I promised you in that cursed place and I’m promising you now, Mage. I’m everything you need me to be,” the warrior mumbled out, uncharacteristically quiet and expressive while the words huffed over Khadgar’s short hair, blowing the tufts softly while the boy sniffled into Lothar’s shirt.

***

Khadgar healed with the Spring and could talk and use his hands normally by the Summer. Anduin had stunted a rushed apology as the mage had eked his own stilted regret in his rusty voice and they had stopped in shock before just bumping their foreheads together and shyly, if not a bit sorrowfully, smiling at each other. There had been many quiet talks in the sunny nook of the library Khadgar had taken to studying in, at first refusing to read anything on the Arcane, but slowly working his self-esteem and confidence back to what it had been without the nasty influence of the phantoms within Karazhan.

The boy couldn’t talk above a whisper for months but the large warrior would bend his head to the small mage’s plush, scarred lips and listen as his friend told him-finally, painfully-about what had transpired at Karazhan. Anduin shared his own grief, if not as eloquently as Khadgar, in stunted, short fragments-he had never been one to discuss feelings in depth.

He didn’t stand for doubt on Khadgar’s part, chucking him under the scarred skin on his chin and forcing their eyes to meet, “That was the last night you spent alone, I’ll wrap you in my arms and won’t let go, I’m everything you need me to be.” It became his comforting mantra when the mage had a relapse and his eyes would glaze over while his ears rung with insecurities. His parents hadn’t wanted him, the Kirin Tor hadn’t tolerated him, and why would this glorious savior want to be around him?

But through all that, they did get one thing clear, if not after much gesturing and discussion-they both desired each other, consequences and societal judgement be damned-and it was not just a lust; for Khadgar, Anduin was his first, and hopefully only, love, while for the warrior, his little mage was the healing balm to the grief and awkwardness that had followed him his entire life-he was free in the small mage’s embrace.

Taria smiled at finally seeing her brother and the mage well again, and the guards and citizens of Stormwind that noticed them together, closer than one would expect, just turned the other way-they had other things to worry about than causing problems for their Guardian and Lion during a time of war.

***

The leaves fell off the trees and the Horde made to march against Stormwind. Khadgar was the Guardian now and advised in the War Room along with Anduin Lothar and the other generals.

If they stood too closely or preferred to always fight back-to-back in battle, protecting each other above anyone else, no one said anything, just grateful for the protection and leadership the two men provided to their people.

The nights grew longer and frigid and Khadgar started getting nervous when the cold would hit his skin or the shadows would grow in the corners of the Keep.

Lothar had combined the mage’s chambers with his own and despite apologizing so much the mage finally shushed him with a spell into silence, the warrior had insisted on moving them both to a different part of the Keep-where he had lain with no one, and no bad memories lingered like sweet decay.

It was a windy night and thunder rumbled in the distance while Khadgar huddled with his back to Anduin’s chest to keep warm even with the roaring fire the warrior had set in the fireplace to keep the shadows at bay for his love.

But the way the mage was rubbing and nudging himself closer and closer to the warrior made him clench his teeth and groan quietly-he had assumed Khadgar was celibate, maybe even lacking the proper parts to consummate anything, after his residence and instruction with the Kirin Tor-and honestly, they had never discussed any coupling or pairing. And really, the mage had taken so long to recover in body and spirit, and what kind of a monster would Anduin be if he approached the young man with anything but ardent and pure affections-he couldn’t wreck the boy now that he was finally whole again.

Khadgar was laboring under the assumption that the warrior was only sexually aroused by women and perhaps he wanted a celibate relationship with the mage; and frankly, he would take what he could get and would be thankful.

Anduin shuffled back on the mattress and stilled Khadgar’s rolling shoulder with a large, calloused hand, “Be still, Spell-Chucker, or I’ll have to sleep on the bear-skin on the floor tonight.”

The mage hunched his shoulders inwards and felt his eyes prickle; was he really that unappealing? He had felt Anduin’s hardness pressing into his flesh and had wiggled against it thinking maybe in the dim firelight he could finally please his partner this night, before they woke up to another stressful day of endless strategy and battle.

Khadgar stiffened when Anduin’s hand rubbed against his shoulder blade, “Little Mage?” he whispered quietly, perhaps he had offended the boy.

Khadgar pushed his chin to his chest in a stressed reflex and didn’t respond and Anduin forgot himself to shuffle closely to the mage and bodily turn the boy around to face him in the bed, always getting fearful when the chatty youth went silent like that winter past.

The warrior froze, feeling for the first time after months and months of careful consideration and acquiescence, the mage’s cock, fully erect, pressing against his thigh hotly between their thin nightshirts.

He moved his big hand down to tentatively rub a finger against the length and the mage squeaked and squirmed while red blushed on his cheeks, up to his ears, and down his neck, “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-I don’t want to do anything you don’t want,” the warrior stuttered out, so unlike his normally smooth, confidant speech.

The mage stilled and grabbed the warrior’s searching hand tightly, bumpy scars hitting the callouses in a muffled grip, “What? What I don’t want to do? Anduin, what do you think I have wanted since you first pinned me to a table and pressed your hand to my lips?”

The warrior gaped, his thoughts paused and sped back, “You want to fuck me?” came tumbling out of his bearded mouth while the mage hissed, “You want to lay with me?” at the same time before they both quieted and pressed their foreheads together, breathing heavily.

Suddenly it was like a firecracker had been lit within the warrior and all the pent up lust and lonely sessions with his hand in the lake and the barracks came swimming back to his veins-setting them heavily alight with burning need. He did manage to still his shaking hands an inch above the mage’s trembling body, harshly whispering, “Can you-will I hurt you?” panting while he waited for an answer.

“Please, Anduin, I’ve wanted you for so long, please take me, I’m yours,” the mage fumbled out, fidgeting with the hem of his nightshirt nervously but spreading open his legs, knees propped up invitingly all the same. His long cock wilted slightly in insecurity and lolled to the side while his smooth scrotum tightened marginally as the chilled air hit his exposed modesty.

The warrior ripped his shirt over his head and pulled the mage’s shirt off him as well before grabbing the boy’s bony hips in his large hands and crashing their mouths together roughly. They hadn’t even kissed in all this time, really they needed to work on their communication since clearly it had all been a waste, just brushing hands and tangling in their sleep this entire while.

Their teeth clicked painfully as the force of the warrior’s control slipped and he nicked a bumpy scar on the mage’s lower lip, tasting blood before pulling back to eye the boy’s face warily, worried he had been too rough. But Khadgar only whined at the lack of contact, hungry for all he had been longing for, and grabbed at his Lion’s mane and tugged the large body back over his slim, smooth frame.

Anduin didn’t need any more prompting, he latched his mouth and teeth over the mage’s pink nipple and sucked hard while stuffing two of his thick fingers into the boy’s mouth, grinning against the sensitive flesh when Khadgar responded with whorish whimpers, arching up against the warrior for friction to his purpled, thin cock and sucking fervently at the fingers gagging him.

Tears were running down the mage’s cheeks when the warrior finally had his quivering hole stretched on four fingers, shushing him and promising the burn would get better once his cock was stuffing him full. Somewhere along the way Anduin had grabbed a vial of leather oil from a discarded satchel in his wardrobe and eased the mage’s virgin slit open carefully with the help of the slick liquid coating his fingers.

“Please Anduin, I can’t wait,” the mage begged shamelessly while Lothar lined the thick, plush crown of his cock at the gaping, wrecked hole of his lover.

He pressed inside and bucked his hips thickly upwards while pinning the mage’s shaking hips to the bed, nailing his prostrate and grunting in satisfaction while his virgin lover arched his head back, mouth open in a hoarse cry, and his eyes glowed blue with the Arcane in an uncontrolled frenzy.

Anduin fucked into the plush flesh laid open to him and curled his toes tightly in an attempt to last beyond a few minutes because his cock had never been gripped so tightly before in such a velvet heat, and he certainly hadn’t loved any of his partners like this before-thrusting while his heart cracked and overflowed in his chest with feelings he couldn’t even name-watching expressions of rapture and magic flit across the young mage’s face all the while.

Khadgar set items to flying around the room in a dusky wind and finally whined and begged for a gag while he gritted his teeth and tried to stop the Arcane from flowing out of him in blue flames. Anduin stuffed his fingers back in the boy’s mouth and practically purred when the little mage suckled at them like a tit, running his tongue over the callouses and moaning loudly, muffled by the warrior’s hand. His tongue would feel so good on Anduin’s cock the next time they fucked, he thought feverishly before shouting and bucking harshly into the young body beneath him, shaking the wooden bedframe into creaking while shooting his seed deep into his lover. The mage screamed around the fingers in his mouth and his legs cramped while his untouched cock sprayed his release onto his stomach.

Anduin pulled out of his lover swiftly, trying not to hurt the boy, but the mage winced anyway and the warrior couldn’t help but smirk as he watched Khadgar’s wrecked, puffy hole gape and push outwards against the air, spitting seed out with each spasm. He rubbed at the abused flesh with his fingers and caught some of his own seed on his hand and brought it to the mage’s scarred lips.

Khadgar’s eyes were still glowing blue but they had lidded heavily and he was trying to catch his breath while his heart raced. He nuzzled his chin and lips against his Lion’s hand, slipping his tongue out to lap up the sticky seed the warrior was feeding him and humming hoarsely in pleasure even as his cheeks reddened in embarrassment over how ruined he was for this man.

Anduin tugged his fingers back and grabbed the small mage to his large chest, sighing as Khadgar buried and nuzzled his face into the larger man’s thick collarbones and sternum.

“I love you,” the small mage whispered so quietly the warrior thought he might be imagining it-they certainly had never actually said those words to each other though he knew he had thought and felt them so many times over the passing months.

He squeezed the small mage against himself tightly and his voice shook when he replied, “I love you too, Khadgar.” Not Spell-Chucker, or Mage, or Boy…Khadgar, his partner, and maybe one day, his husband, if the mage would permit it.

The mage sighed like a weight had been lifted from him and he nipped the man’s collarbone, “About time,” he huffed, laughing quietly.

The warrior growled and squished the mage even tighter to his chest, bending his nose to rustle in Khadgar’s short hair. The morning would bring loud trumpets to wake them, and he would have to again fear for his love’s, his family’s, lives while fighting for his own and wondering how on Azeroth they would make it through this wreckage intact bodily and spiritually. But now, his spirit was still and his heart was happy, he couldn’t even remember the last time he had felt this content. He pushed his lips to Khadgar’s forehead and fell asleep like that, cherishing their moment before the dawn, thanking the Light for bringing Khadgar to him so he could have a last night to spend alone before so many nights full of the young mage, love, and happiness.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Please let me know what you thought by leaving kudos and comments!


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